


the morning after the night before

by mylittlebigbluebox



Series: welcome to med. [3]
Category: Chicago Med
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Morning After, Will Halstead Imagine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:22:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24595228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylittlebigbluebox/pseuds/mylittlebigbluebox
Summary: Reader realises this is not her bedroom.
Relationships: Will Halstead/Reader
Series: welcome to med. [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1684609
Kudos: 15





	the morning after the night before

_Ouch._

That was your only coherent thought as the light seeped under your eyelids.

_Ouch._

Unable to take it any more, you turn over in bed and burrow as far down under your comforter as you can. Screw the morning, screw the hospital, screw the infirm and the dying, this morning _you_ are the infirm and, guessing from that awful, brain splitting, rattling, bang going on in your head, you are the dying too.

And you're all for wallowing in that right up until you hear a soft knock on your bedside table. You seize for a moment at the thought of somebody in your house and then you remember.

You don't have a bedside table. Not yet anyway.

You don't appear to have any clothes on either.

Crooking a finger just outside of the comforter and pulling it just far enough to peek out, you see a glass of water, what you hope is aspirin and a shadow hovering over you.

“Oh, this is going to be painful.”

“Morning, sunshine.”

“Yeah, can we do something about that until my eyes aren't hanging out of my head?” You crawl out from under the bedding, with as much dignity as you can – _who are you kidding?_ \- and grimace at the broad smirk peering down at you.

“Can't control the weather, sorry.” Will shrugs and folds his arms. It's then that you notice he's wearing boxers and not much else, “Those'll help.”

You thank his nod to the meds on his bedside table and gladly take them, a tight grip on the comforter covering your modesty as you go.

“You up for some breakfast?”

You swallow down a little bit of sick at the thought, “Not a chance. How much did we drink last night?”

He chuckles as he perches himself on the edge of the bed, “I told you the beer was good.”

“And the whiskey chasers? Did we really need one with _every_ beer?” You try to sound disgruntled but you really don't have the energy for it, and he's _still_ smirking at you, “And how are you so chipper?”

“Not my fault you're a lightweight.”

“I'm not a-”

“It was three, by the way.”

_Three. Damn._

“Seriously? That's all?!” Those aspirin really aren't working quick enough.

“I repeat, _lightweight_ ,” Will pulls a face for good measure, somewhere between a grimace and a tease.

“And, uh, remind me,” You shuffle under the sheets, “How did we get here exactly?”

Something in Will's demeanour changes and you can't figure if it's disappointment or shame, “You don't remember? Anything?”

You know you're blushing, “I remember it was me that kissed you.”

Will ducks his chin, “No, that was mutual.”

You smirk now, “I think it was _all_ mutual.”

He laughs, “One-hundred percent.”

“Still,” You add after a pause, “I'm not quite sure _how_ it got to that point.”

“A couple of the guys from the fire house had one too many and we were a little too close when they tumbled out of Mollys. They kinda shoved you into me while we were waiting for a cab.”

It comes to you in a flash and you're shrinking back under the covers as it does, “Jeez, I did not hold back.”

“No, you did not.”

You nudge him with your knee under the covers, “You didn't seem to mind.”

Will gestures towards his bed, “Clearly!”

You laugh together for a moment.

“It wasn't a bad night though, was it?”

“Far from it, rest assured.”

You settle uncomfortably into an awkward silence, Will watching himself wring his own hands and you not really sure where to look; the view from his apartment is great, you're sure, but your eyes are still sensitive, every time you glance at the crumpled sheets you get another blurry flashback and you don't want to make things weird by staring at Will, so you trace your finger along the rim of your glass instead, willing the right words to pop into your brain.

“Listen, I'm gonna be straight with you,” Will's head is clearly working faster than yours, “I don't think I'm in the right place for any _thing_ , right now.”

You sigh a relief, “Oh, thank God,” You rush to continue when his forehead crumples, “Sorry, don't take it personally.”

“Right.” He pauses then, for thought you assume but instead you decide to take the opportunity to speak.

“Seriously, Will, I like you, I do, but a relationship is the furthest thing from my mind right now, with you or anyone. It's kinda complicated, you know?”

He smiles a small smile of relief, “I know. Me too.”

“No regrets, though, right?”

His smile broadens, “Absolutely. No regrets.”

Another pause. You really should get moving except, “Well, I'm naked.”

Will laughs, “I can see that!”

“You been looking? You perv!” You're teasing, “Can you pass me my things? I'll get out of your hair.”

Will stands, scoops up your belongings and hands them over, suddenly conscious of where he's looking, his eyes darting around you, “You sure you don't want anything to eat?”

“I'll be fine. I'll get something when I'm more sure it'll stay down.”

“Right. I'll give you some space.”

He leaves you to it with an awkward backward walk, and once you're sure you're totally out of his sight, you clamber out of bed, throwing your clothes on in a rush. Before heading out, you call a cab to your place.

Finding your way around, you find Will in his kitchen with a coffee in hand. Once he sees you, he places his mug down and replaces it with a travel cup outstretched to you, “I know you said you didn't want anything but I figured you wouldn't say no to a caffeine boost. You can return the mug later.”

You take it, gladly, “You know, if it wasn't for our little talk just now, I'd think you were offering yourself up as boyfriend material.”

Will scoffs, leaning against the counter tops, “If I was offering myself up as a boyfriend, you'd know about it.”

“Oh, yeah, how's that?”

“We'd argue a few times, I'd pull your pigtails and, to top it off, I'd pretend I had the hots for someone else,” He smirks, but there's something that makes you wonder just what he's thinking of right now.

“Oh, ha ha, Will,” You reply, dryly, “Come on, you're not all bad.”

He shrugs and folds his arms across his chest, “I guess I've never really been good at the relationship thing. Always finding ways to screw it up.”

You can't imagine it, yourself. Will has, far and away, been the best person you've met since you came to Med.

“Well, I'm sure you'll get it right with someone, someday.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“You're one of the good guys, Will, you'll figure it out in the end.”

He's blushing from ear to ear and ducks his head to try and hide it.

Your phone pings with a message.

“My cab's outside. See you at work?”

“You will,” You're half way out the door when he adds, “And thanks. You know, for _that_.”

“Anytime.”


End file.
